


A Victorian Farmhouse in Kansas, a Portrait Painted in 1903, a 1920s Reporter, and a Couple Vampires

by AlmondRose



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Humor, Immortality, M/M, Secret Identity, Vampires, What else is new, everyone needs another superbat vampire fic!!, lois is snoopy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:39:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7195901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmondRose/pseuds/AlmondRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lois Lane finds herself in the midst of a mystery with photographs from Clark Kent's desk in the middle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Victorian Farmhouse in Kansas, a Portrait Painted in 1903, a 1920s Reporter, and a Couple Vampires

Lois woke up in an unfamiliar room. It was a pretty room, although it was plain. She got up and looked around. There wasn’t anything to clue her into the identity of the person who owned the room. On closer inspection it looked like the room didn’t belong to anyone. Lois grabbed the doorknob and left the room. She opened the door across from hers and found old fashioned furniture and a big bed. The room looked like a museum, all preserved and stale. It smelled strongly of dust. Lois backed out of the room and opened the other door. It was a bathroom. The last room on this floor had more modern furniture, although it looked kind of like grandma furniture over museum furniture. This room was obviously used. Lois approached the closet and found flannel shirts and some tacky suits fit for a man. There was a portrait painting hanging over the bed. It was two men with black hair and blue eyes, surrounded by five black haired and blue eyed boys. One of the boys looked remarkably like one of the men and was clearly his son, but the others could have been brothers or sons of the others. There were four girls as well, an Asian, a redhead, and two blondes. Two old men and an old woman stood behind the group. Lois wasn’t sure what kind of family it was supposed to depict. The painting looked sort of eerie, and almost everyone in the picture looked scarily familiar, but Lois couldn’t  _ quite  _ place where she had maybe seen them before. It was unnerving. 

 

“1903,” a voice said behind her. Lois whirled around and saw the strangest thing she had ever seen. Superman stood there, but he wasn’t wearing his cape, and he had a flannel shirt on, open over his costume, displaying the S shield. He had on jeans and work boots. The curl was firmly in place on his forehead. Lois must have made a face, because he chuckled. 

 

“You don’t expect me to wear my costume all the time, do you?” he asked. 

 

“Y-you’re wearing it now,” Lois said. 

 

“Touche.” 

 

“Where are we? Why am I here? What’s this painting thing?” Kal held up his hands. 

 

“Woah, woah,” he said. “This is where I grew up. I brought you here because there was a battle in Metropolis--Doctor Destiny--and you got hurt.” Lois inspected herself. 

 

“I’m fine, though,” she said. 

 

“Yes, but you  _ were _ hurt. Nobody would think to look for you here. I used some Kryptonian tech to heal you. You must have lost some memory.”

 

“How long has it been?”

 

“Almost a week. Don’t worry, I sorted it all with Perry.”

 

“Okay,” Lois said. She didn’t like missing work, but perhaps she could get an interview from the elusive Superman about how he grew up to make up for it. “Thank you. Now what’s this painting?”

 

“That was painted in 1903,” Kal said, walking over to look at it with her. “It’s my family.” Lois looked at the painting again, then she looked at his face, then back again. 

 

“That’s you!” she said, pointing to one of the adult men. Kal chuckled.

 

“Yes, that’s me,” he said. “Man, I look young.”

 

“But that was painted a hundred years ago,” Lois said. “How is that--”

 

“I’m old,” Kal said, raising an eyebrow. “One hundred and forty five years old.” 

 

“But I thought you were a new occurrence,” Lois said, trying to process this information. “You’ve only been Superman for a few years.”

 

“Yes, but I just haven’t been a superhero very long. When all these other heroes started to step up, I decided to as well. I’ve been doing small acts of heroism for a very long time.” 

 

“Oh,” Lois said. She directed her attention back to the painting. “So who are these people?”

 

“I’ve said, my family,” Kal said. “That one is Superboy and that one is Supergirl.” Lois squinted at the people pointed out. The boy was the one she’d deduced as Kal’s son already and the girl was one of the blondes. 

 

“Who are all of them to you?” 

“Those two are my adopted parents,” Kal said, pointing to two of the elderly people in the back. “That one was my husband, and that’s his...father, and those are our kids.” 

 

“Oh,” Lois said. “I didn’t know you were married. How did you get married to a man all those years ago?”

 

“Oh...I didn’t,” Kal said. “He was just like my husband. Sometimes I forget we were never able to be married.”

 

“Ah.” She was silent for a minute. “So are they dead?”

 

“Of course,” Kal said sharply. “It’s been one hundred and thirteen years since that picture was taken.”

 

“Sorry,” she said. “They could have been Kryptonian, like Superboy and Supergirl. It’s good that you still have them.”

 

“Yeah, it is,” Kal said sadly. 

 

“I’m, um, sorry for your loss.”

 

“It’s okay,” Kal said. “It was a long time ago.” 

 

They spent the next few hours making sure Lois was healthy and fed, then Kal flew Lois back to Metropolis. He flew so fast Lois was unsure as to how far away they were and which direction they even came from. Kal deposited her on the roof of her apartment building and said, “Do you think you have enough information for an article?” Lois was surprised at the question and considered it. 

 

“I think so,” she said. “But what were your family’s names?” Kal looked pained. 

 

“I still--I don’t want to say them,” he said. “I just--I know it’s irrational, but I don’t want their names in the article. I don’t know.”

 

“It’s okay,” Lois assured him. “I understand.” Kal nodded and flew away. Lois went down to her apartment and considered what she had learned.

\------

Lois was already at her desk, typing madly when Clark arrived the next day. He walked up to her. She looked perfectly normal. 

 

“I heard you got hurt the other day. Are you alright?”

 

“Fine,” Lois said without looking up from her computer. “Just needed some fresh air.”

 

“What happened?” Clark asked. “Superman came here to tell Perry to lay off.” It had been odd, being the figure of authority in an encounter with Perry White. 

 

“Um, he took me to his house.”

 

“In the North Pole?” Clark asked, playing dumb. 

 

“No,” she said. “Some Victorian house somewhere in the US. You should wait for me to finish my article, Smallville.” 

 

“Okay,” Clark said meekly. “Well. I’ll be at my desk, if you need anything.”

 

“Sure, whatever,” Lois said, clearly not paying attention anymore. Clark cleared his throat uncomfortably and sidled away. 

\---

Lois didn’t come by his desk until right before lunch. Clark was typing a report about LexCorps’s potential partnership with Queen Industries (Oliver had assured him it would not happen). Lois cleared her throat and Clark looked up. 

 

“Wanna go out for lunch?” she asked. “I think I can rope Jimmy into it, too.”

 

“Sure,” Clark said. “Where do you want to go?” Lois was silent and Clark resumed typing. She was quiet for almost too long and he turned around to see her gaze on one of the pictures he had on his desk. He looked at it too and froze. Most of his pictures were newer, like ones with Kon or Kara, but  _ that one  _ picture was from somewhere in the 1920s. It was of him and Stephanie, although luckily he was wearing glasses, and in the picture he was wearing a fedora that covered all of his hair so he looked less like himself. 

 

“Who’s that?” Lois asked, pointing at it. 

 

“My a couple greats grandfather and his sister, I think,” Clark said. “I just liked the picture. Why?” He prayed she wouldn’t make the connection between the Steph in this picture and the Steph in the portrait back home. Lois shook herself. 

 

“It’s a nice picture, I guess,” she said. “Sorry. Are you at a stopping point?”

 

“Yeah,” Clark said, saving his work and standing up. “Let’s go get Jimmy.”

\------

“What’s this?” Bruce asked, picking up a picture frame from the nightstand, where Clark must have placed it as he came in. It was an old picture, from around...1926, Bruce’d guess, of Clark in his in his reporter getup, and Steph back when she had short hair. Bruce suspected he may have taken the picture. 

 

“That was from my first job as a reporter,” Clark said, coming up behind him. “Can you believe it?”

 

“That was so long ago,” Bruce said. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like that long, and sometimes it feels like eons.”

 

“I know,” Clark said. 

 

“Why do you have this picture here?”

 

“I’m going to give it to Steph. Lois saw it and I don’t want her inspecting it too closely.”

 

“Ah,” Bruce said. “Do you think she made the connection?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Clark said. “I slipped up and called you my husband when I was talking about the portrait to her.”

 

“Well,” Bruce said. “She thinks me and the kids are dead, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Clark said. “You’ve read the article.” 

 

“Well then,” Bruce said. “Make sure she doesn’t find out you’re Superman, and she probably won’t find out that I’m the man in the portrait.”

 

“Okay,” Clark said, nodding.

 

“Now come here,” Bruce said, changing the subject. “I’m hungry.”

\------

Lois felt no guilt as she sat at Clark’s desk. Everyone was gone for the day. She looked at the smattering of picture frames on the side, almost under his computer. The old photograph of his ancestor was not there. In the front, there was a picture of Clark with herself and Jimmy, behind that he was with a dark haired boy--Connor Kent, and there was another picture of Connor behind that with Kara, his cousin. Lois picked up the photograph of the two and inspected it. They seemed oddly familiar for some reason. Lois frowned and put it back. Bad eyesight must run in the family, since they all had glasses. Behind the picture of Kara and Connor, there was a picture of four men with dark hair and blue eyes. They looked sort of familiar, too. There weren’t other pictures. Lois huffed and opened the top drawer of Clark’s desk. All there was was a stack of even  _ more  _ photographs. The one on the top was Bruce Wayne.

 

Lois stared at it, wide eyed. Why would Clark have a picture of Bruce Wayne, of all people? She reached out a hand and picked up the stack of pictures. She moved the Bruce picture and found one of Bruce and Dick Grayson, back when he first adopted the kid. Under that was one of Connor Kent and Tim Drake. Under that was Damian Wayne and Dick Grayson. Under that was Jason Todd, the ward who died years ago. Under that picture was a picturesque victorian farmhouse, with a bunch of people posing in front. Under that was a blonde and a redhead. Lois noticed a Spongebob bandaid on the blonde’s neck immediately. For whatever reason she looked at the redhead’s neck, too, and saw a normal bandaid there. Why would both girls have bandaids in the same places? Odd coincidence? Lois shook her head and moved on. The last picture in the stack was of Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent, with their arms around each other’s waists. Lois blinked and inspected it farther, but it was just two friends, taking a picture. Lois replaced the stack and sat up, scratching her head. She wondered what the heck Clark was hiding.

\------

The door was shoved open and Connor barged in, without a care as to what Clark and Bruce might be doing. Clark was sitting on the bed, back to the door, and Bruce was straddling him, attached at the neck. Bruce glared at him. Connor ignored this. 

 

“Lois is snooping through your stuff right now,” he announced. “In your desk.”

 

“I-Is she...what’s her expression like?” Clark asked through a gasp. Connor checked. 

 

“Um, she’s wide-eyed, and she’s looking at your desk photos...geez, you have a lot,” he said. “Why do you keep those there?”

 

“T-they’re not co-compromising,” Clark managed. “A-and I like looking at them.”

 

“Man, time and place to be sappy,” Connor said without any malice as Bruce finished up with Clark’s neck and wiped off his mouth. Clark took a few steadying breaths before he too, checked on Lois. 

 

“Well, I can’t stop her,” Clark said after a minute. 

 

“Why not?” Connor asked. 

 

“If Clark appeared, she’d know he was watching, which means he has something to hide,” Bruce said. “And if Superman appeared, then it means she’s on to something.”

 

“Oh,” Connor said.  “I guess.” Clark and Bruce got up off the bed and stretched out. Clark’s neck was already healed. “Alfred wanted me to let you know that dinner for those who eat is almost done,” Connor told Clark. 

 

“Okay,” Clark said. “Has Tim eaten yet?”

 

“Nah,” Connor said. “He never has big meals, typically just snacks at odd hours. I think Cass and Jason are out now, though.”

 

“I’ll go check,” Bruce said, sweeping out of the room. Connor and Clark followed him, but instead of heading to the Batcave, they headed for the kitchen table.

\------

Lois acted supremely normal the next day at work. Clark could see, with his microscopic vision, her fingerprints on the unframed pictures in his desk drawer. She picked up one or two of the ones on his desk, too. Clark wondered if she wondered where his parents were. He wanted to move the pictures, but he guessed that if he moved them now if would look suspicious if Lois decided to have another look. He was pretty sure she never saw the outside of the house in Smallville, so the photograph of it would probably go mostly unnoticed. He hoped. 

\---

Perry asked who’d want to go to the newest Wayne foundation event, and Lois practically jumped out of her seat to say that she’d go, and she’d bring Clark. Clark was surprised, but agreed.  _ Of course _ he’d go to a Wayne foundation event. And it was actually at the manor, too. He didn’t say any of this, just nodded and said that sure he’d like to go. 

\---

“So,” Lois’s voice interrupted. They were standing right outside the manor, about to head inside. 

 

“So?” Clark asked. 

 

“So are you and Bruce Wayne friends?” Lois asked. 

 

“Um,” Clark said. “Sure.”

 

“What do you mean, ‘sure’?” 

 

“Well, I guess I interview him a lot,” Clark said carefully, thinking about his words. “And we’ve gone out to dinner a time or two, so I guess we could be called friends. I’ve never thought about it like that. Why?”

 

“I don’t know,” Lois shrugged. “Let’s go inside.” 

\------

“Lois watched me the whole time,” Clark said idly later as he was pulling on his Superman costume. Bruce looked up from the process of putting on the Batsuit. 

 

“I know,” he said. “But we never talked, so she can’t have seen anything.”

 

“Plus we distracted her,” Stephanie said, gesturing to herself and Cass. Cass nodded importantly. 

 

“Yes, and thank you for that,” Clark said. Bruce pulled on his cowl and faced his family. 

 

“Do you think she’ll find out?” Tim asked. Bruce noticed that he was already dressed as Red Robin.

 

“I’m not sure,” Bruce said. “I’ve run some statistics, and the probability of her finding out is still in the lower percentile, although it  _ is  _ rising.”

 

“What would we do if she found out?” Dick asked. 

 

“Kill her,” Damian said nonchalantly. Bruce glared at him. Damian raised his hands defensively. “I was attempting a  _ joke,  _ Father.”

 

“Poor attempt,” Babs said.

 

“I’m not sure what we would do if Lois discovered  _ every _ thing,” Bruce said. “But I’m sure we will make it through it.”

 

“Yeah, and it’s only like another fifty years before she’s dead, so you know,” Steph said. Bruce frowned. 

 

“Morbid, but true,” he said. Clark laughed and rolled his eyes. 

 

“Whatever,” he said. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, I’ll be going.” He kissed Bruce and flew away. Bruce frowned thoughtfully after him. 

 

“You can almost  _ see  _ him making a million backup plans,” Steph stage-whispered from behind him.

 

“I know,” Dick whispered back. “And look, Tim’s making some too.”

 

“And Babs has a long list of them, I’m sure,” Cass added. 

 

“Between them, I’m sure whatever happens with Lois will be  _ fine.”  _

\------

Lois looked down the side of her apartment building. She was on the roof. Twelve stories is up high, right? Sure it was. She took a deep breath, screwed her eyes shut tight,  and stepped off the side of the building. She fell for a few moments before she was swept up, bridal style, in someone’s strong arms. She opened her eyes and beamed at Superman.

 

“There are easier ways of getting my attention,” he groused. “Less dangerous ways.”

 

“You don’t have a Batsignal,” Lois said. “Or a cellphone number, as far as I know. Anyways, so I’m thinking that that guy in the portrait from 1903 is immortal somehow. Your boyfriend, you know? Husband, I guess is the word--Bruce. Bruce Wayne.”

 

“How did you make this connection?” Superman asked, sounding alarmed. 

 

“Um, your slipup. Also, that painter was good, and I see Bruce all the friggin’ time. I suppose you lied to me about him being dead because his immortality is a secret, right? In all honesty, I’m not sure how I haven’t noticed it before. The Wayne line has been a blurry line since forever. I guess the playboy thing is an act, too, huh, because you being in love with a sleaze like him is hard to imagine.” She paused to take a breath. Superman deposited her on the roof. She landed on her butt. Normally he was more gentle.

 

“Lois,” he said gently. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

 

“What?” Lois gasped. She had been so sure she was right!

 

“My husband  _ died  _ seventy years ago,” he said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about--about Mr. Wayne, but...you should probably relax a little. I’m sorry.” He flew away, looking sad. Lois swung her legs over the side of the roof and dropped her chin in her hands. 

 

“I was so sure I was right,” she said petulantly. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings!”

 

“Well, it still hurts, you know?” a female voice said from next to her. Lois turned slightly to see Supergirl sitting there. Superboy was on her other side. “I mean, seventy years is a long time, but it takes a while to get over that kind of loss, you know?”

 

“And it wasn’t just his husband...my other dad,” Superboy said, sniffing a bit. “It was all of his kids, too.”

 

“We’re only two of nine,” Supergirl said. “We can't replace the gaping hole in his life.”

 

“Gaping,” Superboy echoed. Lois rolled her eyes. 

 

“Well, that’s tragic, but--whatever.”

 

“Just leave him alone for a bit, okay?” Supergirl advised gently. Lois felt patronized. The two heroes lifted off and prepared to leave.

 

“Wait,” Lois said. They turned. “Does Superman have a civilian identity? Or is he just Kal?” The two heroes exchanged a look. That they hesitated was answer enough.

\------

Bruce was closer to the door, so he opened it when someone knocked. Lois Lane pushed past him. 

 

“Hello,” he said, bemused. She whirled around to face him. She pulled out the pictures and fanned them like cards. 

 

“These pictures,” she said.

 

“What about them?” Bruce asked lazily, snatching them from her hands. He inspected them closely, without looking as though he was looking too hard. Ah, yes, he remembered the day. It was around ten years ago, but it was a fond memory. He was glad recent developments in cameras had led to him being able to be captured on film, because now he could have pictures of himself with his family. But that was besides the point. 

 

“Why are they of you and Clark in Smallville?” Lois asked. “And who’re they?” She pointed to the one of Barbara and Steph--Bruce cursed that Clark had decided to pick a picture clearly taken place right after Dick and Damian had fed. 

 

“Dick’s girlfriend and Cass’s best friend,” Bruce said smoothly. 

 

“But why are you two in Smallville?” Lois pressed. 

 

“He grew up there,” Bruce said. “You’d think you’d know that. Aren’t you the one who calls him ‘Smallville’?” He turned and walked away, sliding the pictures in his pocket.

 

“Yes,” Lois allowed, hurrying after him. “But why were you there?”

 

“Why not?” Bruce shrugged, walking into the sitting room. Clark was sitting there.

 

“C-clark?” Lois asked, stopping in her tracks. Bruce smirked, although he knew she couldn’t see, and sat down next to his husband. 

 

“Hello, Lois,” Clark said without looking up from his book. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Lois demanded. 

 

“I could ask you the same,” Clark said, closing his book and putting it on the stand next to the couch. Lois opened her mouth, then closed it. 

 

“Now then, Miss Lane, what was the argument you wanted to bring up by bringing these pictures?” Bruce pulled the pictures smoothly from his pocket. 

 

“Okay--so. Victorian farmhouse. Pictures. 1920s reporter picture. The portrait. Superman. It all--fits. Except it also doesn’t. I’m thinking immortality, like Wonder Woman. She’s old, right?”

 

“Yes, I believe so,” Bruce said. 

 

“Okay, so there was this picture, on Clark’s desk, of a 1920s reporter that looked just like him and the blonde girl with the Spongebob bandaid on her neck in that one picture. There was also a portrait in Superman’s house--a Victorian house--of his family. Superman told me they were dead, but I don’t believe him. I think they’re Bruce, and Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, and those two girls in the picture, and--and someone else, I dunno. I know it doesn’t really make sense, but it also  _ does  _ and so….”

 

“And so you thought it’d be a good idea to corner us about this without proof,” Bruce said calmly. To be fair, it wasn’t that much of a stretch. They really weren’t very subtle, or at least Clark wasn’t. Not that Bruce blamed Clark, of course.

 

“Who needs proof when I have blackmail?” Lois asked, cheerfully pulling out a flash drive. “This drive has a report on all of this written on it. If you don’t confirm it, or at least tell me what’s going on, I put this to print. And don’t say ‘oh, Perry would never print that’ because he would if a  _ Pulitzer Prize winning reporter  _ wants to print it.”

 

“You do realize that if your theory is correct, and Clark’s Superman, then he could destroy it in an instant, right?” Bruce said. Lois’s eyes widened and she clutched the drive tighter. 

 

“Um, please don’t,” she said. 

 

“I don’t think I would, if I was Superman,” Clark said. 

 

“Okay, so say that the Superman theory is correct. Let’s just say. So if that’s true, then how have I been alive for so long?” Bruce asked, genuinely curious. Lois shifted on her feet. 

 

“Well,” she said. “Some sort of meta human? Like Superman, being Kryptonian?” Lois tried. Bruce raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Clark said quickly. 

 

“Hey guys, Damian just finished eating, and Alfred says that it’s dinner...time...Clark….” Steph said, trailing off as she entered the room. She was a little pale, and her neck was healing but unbandaged. She froze and looked around between Clark and Bruce on the couch, and Lois holding the flashdrive, standing in the middle of the room. 

 

“Um, haha, I’ll just tell him you have guests, then,” Steph said, laughing awkwardly, turning around on her heel and running out of the room. Lois’s eyes were wide. 

 

“Was her neck--” she asked. “Wait.”

 

“Well Lois, time to go!” Clark said loudly, standing up. “Yes, Bruce and I are secretly married. Sure, I’m Superman. You’ve found us out. Time to go!” He pushed Lois out of the room, while she protested weakly. Bruce followed them, smiling. 

 

“Have a nice day!” Clark said, shutting the door in Lois’s face. Bruce heard her say from behind the door, “Vampires?”

 

“Well, that could have gone better,” Clark said, wiping his brow. 

 

“Yeah,” Bruce said. “But at least she didn’t figure out the crucial thing here.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“I’m Batman.”

 

“Oh, right,” Clark said. “And I got the drive.”

 

“No way,” Bruce said, a smile growing on his face. Clark opened his fist, revealing the smashed file. The pieces fell to the floor as Bruce pulled him into a kiss. 

  
“And like Steph said before,” Bruce said, pulling away. “We only have to wait another fifty or so years before the secret is safe once again.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case it wasn't clear, all the official Waynes are vampires. The vampires have minor vampire powers, such as not showing up in (old) photos, extended hearing, sunlight being harmful but not fatal, and of course, sucking blood. 
> 
> They like to sort of "imprint" on a person and then suck blood from only that person. So the reason Steph and Babs are immortal is because they were "imprinted" on as a vampire's meal (Dick and Damian). Also, every immortal person can control their ages, so they could look five or fifty, but they prefer to look young as to go with Bruce's current alibi. Alfred is immortal because Bruce made a complicated deal with some minor demons to make him immortal, but he is sadly eternally old. 
> 
> Dick is "imprinted" to Babs, Tim is "imprinted" to Kon, and Damian is "imprinted" to Steph. Bruce is, clearly, "imprinted" to Clark. Cass is a vegetarian vampire, so she "eats" animals and stuff, which is just a lifestyle choice, like real vegetarianism. Jason has yet to "imprint", so he just eats then mindwipes random civilians--don't worry, he doesn't kill. 
> 
> All of the backstories of these characters according to continuity is hand wavey, mostly because I'm lazy. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! If you want me to write in more detail about this stuff, let me know and I'll try to come up with a good idea! (It took me AGES to come up with this particular idea--I was like "Ooh vampires! But what about?" And my mind was like "...") I love and appreciate every comment and kudos I get :)


End file.
